Perchance to Dream
by WordsConsumeHer
Summary: Harry Potter hasn't spoken since the final battle, and Severus wades through a complex world of dreams and memories in order to find him.  Perhaps Snape will find himself along the way... Mature.  SLASH.  SS/LE, SS/LM, SS/HP
1. The Unexpected Casualty

_Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe does not belong to me, but to J.K Rowling and a bunch of really rich publishers and film production companies. I make no money from writing this or any other fanfic. _

Pebbles clicked together as Severus' boot clad feet wandered the shoreline. Today, he wasn't worried about the sea salt staining the worn black leather, or the dampness that leaked through the seams and moistened his socks. He felt no need to surveil the crying gulls that circled overhead as he usually would, watching nervously in case one of them decided to mar his crisp black robes with their feces. None of these things even crossed his mind today.

That was the wonderful thing about dreams. One could wander for hours along the beach and never have to think about bird shit, wet socks or sunburns. Men of Severus' pallor had to be wary of the sun, and in life he remedied this by cloistering himself in the dungeons. In dreams, however, he allowed himself to relish the warm rays on his skin.

Waves crashed around his ankles, sending a salty spray into the atmosphere around him; he smiled and inhaled the moist air, closing his eyes in bliss.

"_Severus,"_ the voice came from the sea, a whisper among the crash of waves.

He opened his black eyes and squinted into the surf. The tide was coming in, and the waves were rolling into shore with more fervour than they had before. He scanned the frothy breaks, seeking the source of the voice.

"_Severus..."_ the voice breathed again, distinctively female and shockingly familiar.

The dark haired man crashed into the water, struggling against the tide that tried to keep him at bay.

"Lily?" He called her name frantically, searching for her in the sea.

"Lily? LILY?" Each cry was louder and more distressed. Severus plunged further into the waves and tried desperately to swim as his heavy robes dragged him into the depths.

The unrelenting water pulled him in, the undertow claiming its victim with ruthless efficiency. His head dipped below the waves and his last breath escaped him.

Severus opened his eyes slowly and tried to make sense of where he was. Everything was white and utterly silent and his robes had somehow become dry. Taking a breath, he noticed that his skin lacked the salty aroma it should have had after being submerged in the ocean.

He stood up quickly and surveyed the expanse of nothingness, screaming her name into the abyss, "LILY!"

"I'm here."

Severus snapped his head around to see that his long dead friend was standing before him, her slender frame clad in a pale blue dress. Rich, red hair spilled down her front in errant waves and her green, almond-shaped eyes were filled with emotion.

His own eyes welled with tears as he pulled her in to a tight embrace. She was warm and yielding and she returned the hug fiercely.

She was real.

"Oh, gods, I missed you," he breathed into her hair, his nostrils filling with her intoxicating scent.

Lily pulled away gently, allowing her hands to remain on his hips, "I missed you, too Severus, more than you can possibly imagine." Her eyes were soft as they searched his face; it was so much older than she remembered it. "I am sorry for dragging you here, old friend, but I need your help." She bit her lip anxiously and fear flashed in her eyes.

Severus felt his chest tighten in alarm. "Where is 'here'? I can only presume that I'm not longer living." His low, sinuous voice echoed slightly into the white abyss. He_ felt_ quite alive, but then again, so did she.

"I don't have much time, Sev, but I promise I will explain it all to you later. You're still very much alive, but you're in between two worlds, in limbo, not fully in life or death," her words were rushed, failing to give him time to process the information. "I need to send you back now, and you have to remember everything I say. This is not a dream, no matter what it feels like. When you wake up, you have to get everyone ready. You have to go fight".

Her hands clenched his waist urgently and she emphasized her words give him a few rough shakes.

Severus' head was spinning in confusion. He grasped Lily's slender shoulders and stared into her face, searchingly.

"Fight what? Lily, what's happening?"

"He's coming," she whispered, staring into his onyx eyes, "Voldemort, Severus. He's coming for Harry." Her small fingers dug in to his flesh hard enough to bruise, "You have to wake up now, Sev. You have to save my son."

Severus cried out as he bolted upright in bed, his heart threatening to rip itself from his chest cavity. He was in his room, tangled in sweat soaked bedclothes with the image of Lily's panic-stricken face burned into his vision. Tumbling from his mattress, he wrenched down the waistband of his shorts and gasped at the sight of the tiny purple bruises marring his pale flesh.

Five bruises on each hip.

Fingerprints.

Lily.

He threw on his robes and fled the dungeons, sprinting to Dumbledore's office.

Dozens of cracks of apparition broke the silence of early morning as the troops arrived at the Burrow. Dumbledore, never questioning Severus' story, had mobilized the small army instantly and now the witches and wizards took their posts, anxiously waiting for the battle they knew would ensue.

Severus stood in the Weasley's sitting room, silently watching Harry pace the worn pine floor. The youth had the haggard look of someone who had not eaten or slept in days; his clothes hung off his skinny frame, his eyes were sunken and hollow. For weeks, Harry Potter had been waiting to die.

"You're going to wear through the floorboards, Potter," the potions master said quietly, trying his best to instil a feeling of calmness into his voice.

Harry lifted his head and turned to make eye contact with his professor, but did not cease his relentless march as he spoke. "I need to do _something_. I don't know how you're just standing there and waiting."

Worn rubber soles on his trainers emitted a soft squeal of protest as the boy turned on his heel and strode in the other direction.

Severus pursed his thin lips, "We have no choice but to wait. We do not know their plan. We only know that they are coming."

Reaching the wall, Harry spun around and marched back towards the older wizard. Severus felt the penetrating stare of the boy's brilliant emerald eyes burning holes right through him. He resisted the urge to shift his weight under the scrutiny, opting instead to maintain a facade of perfect stillness. For a long moment, the boy said nothing.

The past few months had been immeasurably difficult on the teenager. After losing his godfather, he had become reserved and depressed, slowly sinking into an emotional void. Severus had watched him waste away, both physically and emotionally, and had been utterly powerless to stop it. Lily would be devastated to see her son in such a state.

In his mind, Severus silently recounted the events of that morning. He still wasn't sure exactly how it had happened, whether she was a dream, or a disembodied spirit, but the bruises on his flesh assured him that she was, in some way, real. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the memory of her small body pressed against his, and the delicate smell of lavender that had perfumed her soft hair. It was almost too much to bear, having been so many years without her, his one and only friend. In the years since her death, he had (albeit reluctantly) protected Harry as best he could.

It all boiled down to now, today.

The kitchen door creaked as it swung open, causing Harry and Severus to both draw their wands in defensive reflex. Albus, Molly and Arthur raised their hands in matching gestures of friendliness as they entered the room.

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled kindly as he glanced at the teenager, "You're going to pace a hole through the floor at that rate, Harry," he said, his mouth turning up into a gentle and comforting smile.

Harry paused in his pacing and jerked a thumb in Severus' direction, "That's what he said," he muttered irritably. Sighing deeply, he glanced back and forth between the three newcomers, "Any news?"

Molly shook her head, "Nothing yet, my dear, we're just going to have to-"

A flash of acid green spell-light illuminated the room and chaos erupted around them. Harry screamed as he saw Arthur fall to the floor, his shirt smoking from where he'd taken the killing curse straight to his chest.

Wand drawn, Severus crossed the floor in a single, fluid movement, grabbing Harry and dragging him away from the window. Some part of his mind registered the choked sobs escaping the young man's throat, but there was no time to comfort him. Now it was time to fight.

"Stay with me," Severus commanded, dragging Harry roughly by the arm and causing him to stumble. Spellfire whizzed by them punctuating the air with loud crackles and hisses as they fled outdoors, keeping low to the ground.

Death Eaters were everywhere. Streams of black and grey swirling smoke streaked through the air as they arrived by broomless flight, their silver masks reflecting the blaze of early morning sunlight. It was quite possibly the eeriest thing that Severus had ever seen.

Quickly scanning the surrounding fields, he took stock of the situation. To many, it would have seemed to be utter pandemonium, but to the trained eye of Severus Snape, it was a symphony of fighting.

The Order members stood in small formations, fighting off the Death Eaters who attacked from random angles. Wands cut through the air, sending light and energy flying into the intruders. Here and there, bodies from both armies struck the wet earth with a sickening thump. Fifty paces from where he and Harry stood, Severus could see Remus, Moody and Tonks stood back to back in a tight triangle, deftly reflecting curses from the intruders. He nodded in their direction as he uttered his last instructions to Harry, "Stay in a group, watch your flank and remember that the masks obscure their peripheral vision. If you have a shot, take it, and for the love of Merlin, aim to kill."

Green eyes met black as the two exchanged a silent prayer of good luck. Suddenly, Harry pulled his former professor into a fast and harsh embrace before turning back to the battle, wand drawn and screaming, "_Avada Kedavara!"_

Whether it was the time they'd spent together practising Occlumency or just a sixth sense borne of necessity, the two wizards moved in perfect harmony on the battlefield. Curses and hexes flew at them from all angles, but they blocked and parried consistently, never allowing a single blow to land. Around them, they could hear the strangled cries as their comrades fell.

The acrid smell of dark magic mingled with the familiar scent of charred human flesh, causing Severus' stomach to churn in revulsion.

Somewhere to his left, he heard a screech of '_Crucio' _immediately before his body was racked with blinding pain. Struggling to remain standing, Severus saw the familiar hair of Bellatrix LeStrange, and though her face was obscured by a mask, he knew her features were probably contorted with raw hatred as she tortured the man she so loathed.

Beside him, Harry spun in place, firing a full-body bind at the woman with ruthless efficiency. The spell struck true and she collapsed, her skull striking a rock with a sickening crack. Recovering his breath, Severus watched coldly as blood dripped from her ears and joined the pools already staining the ground.

He nodded to Harry, the simple gesture both thanking him for assistance and commending him on his perfectly executed shot. The boy made to return the gesture, but froze, his eyes fixed on a point directly behind his companion.

Severus spun around, instinctively shielding the younger man behind his billowing robes. In front of him was a near-reptilian face that he had not laid eyes on in many months.

Voldemort.

"Severus," the name came out in a hiss, and Severus couldn't be sure whether it was from the Dark Lord's mouth or the slits that served as his nose. It could have been a combination of both that produced such an unearthly sound.

"Riddle," he spat back, his wand at the ready.

The dark wizard smiled, flashing a set of unnaturally pointed teeth, "I see you have chosen a new allegiance, Severus. I regret to inform you that such a betrayal must result in your demise. There will be no room in my new world for traitorous miscreants such as yourself." His red eyes blared with anger as he took a step towards Severus, and subsequently, Potter.

"I would never wish to live in such a world," Severus growled, reaching one hand behind him protectively.

Voldemort laughed derisively, his thin lips turning into a menacing sneer, "Oh, Severus, I never intended for you to live at all."

As if in slow motion, Severus felt Harry shove him down with enough force that his already-crooked nose broke upon impact with the ground. Looking up through searing pain, Severus saw the boy's mouth twist to form the words of the killing curse as green sparks began to form at the end of his wand. Voldemort's face registered surprise as he lifted his wand in retaliation, but just a fraction of a second too slowly. With a repulsive smack, the force of Harry's curse struck the Dark Lord in the face, causing blood to spew forth from his mouth in a horrifying surge. Harry held the curse even as Voldemort's lifeless body fell to the ground, the unrelenting green light forcing deep crimson fluid from every orifice of the corpse. Severus stared in abject horror as the body slowly withered and deflated.

Gently, so as not to startle him, Severus reached a hand to Harry's leg and touched the boy's ankle.

Harry was screaming, an unholy roar of pure hatred and anguish. Feeling the touch of Severus' hand on his leg, he closed his mouth. The silence left in the wake of his scream nearly as deafening as the sound itself.

Harry cast a dazed look down at the remnants of the Dark Lord at his feet before dropping to the ground. Crossing his legs, he sat in silence, blankly staring at the shrivelled remains of the entity that had shaped his life for the last time.

It was an overcast day, but the weather never really seemed to make a difference to Harry Potter. Those who visited knew that they would find him in the same position; sitting in a chair by the window, staring out the thick glass pane with blank eyes.

"This must be more complicated than post traumatic stress disorder," Severus said, shaking his head in concern, "Even the least competent Healer should have come to _that_ conclusion by now."

The tall, dark-haired wizard was leaning against the white painted brick in Harry's room at St. Mungo's Hospital, rubbing the newly-healed bridge of his nose in concern. Beside him, Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in a stiff-backed chair, his lips pursed.

"The mind is a complicated thing, Severus," the old wizard said quietly, his eyes regarding the boy in front of them sadly.

Harry hadn't uttered a single word in the 3 weeks since the battle. Dumbledore had come upon the young man sitting in a pool of Voldemort's blood, rocking himself gently back and forth as a dazed and injured Severus laid beside him Neither of the two men had been able to coax the Boy Who Lived to speak, and only after Voldemort's body had been removed were they able to encourage him to stand.

He moved like a ghost, only deigning to walk when he was being led by a hand on his shoulder or elbow. The scarred young wizard only ate when sustenance was spooned into his mouth, and drank when a glass was raised to his lips. The healers of St. Mungo's were perplexed by their young ward's condition. Medically, he seemed fine. In fact, three weeks of spoon feeding and limited exercise had helped to flesh out his wiry frame and return the healthy glow of a well-rested young man to his skin. At a quick glance, Harry looked better than he had in months; it was only the vacancy in his deadened green eyes that gave his condition away.

Severus had come to visit Harry nearly every day since the incident. He couldn't help but on some level feel that that he should have been able to save the boy. He had been charged to protect him, and no matter what anyone said, Severus felt he had failed.

After an hour or of quiet conversation, Dumbledore abdicated his stiff chair and returned to Hogwarts, leaving Severus to find himself dozing off in Harry's room as he did so very often these days.


	2. Skinned Knees

"Severus..."

The tang of saltwater invaded his nostrils as he once again found himself standing on the pebbled beach, facing the roiling waves. Black eyes searched the beckoning water, desperately seeking his friend.

"Lily? Lily?" he screamed her name into crashing waves but knew that his voice was lost on the wind. After only a moment's hesitation, he ran into the surf and allowed the undertow to once again drag him into familiar oblivion.

The crushing pressure of the water was soon replaced with warmth, and Severus found himself standing in the white nothingness with Lily Evans holding him so tightly he thought his ribs might break. He closed his eyes and revelled in the lavender scent of her hair.

"I am so glad I found you again," she murmured into his chest.

"Mmmm," he murmured in assent, "Although, the method of transportation here leaves much to be desired." He smiled weakly as his lifelong friend pulled away to observe his tortured expression.

Lily laughed, her tinkling voice echoing into the eternal nothingness around them, "You never were one for swimming," she teased, her face breaking into a loving smile. She reached up and curled a finger through his shiny black locks.

Severus resisted the urge to lean into her hand, as if such a thing would be far too intimate. The woman before him had haunted most of his waking moments since their last encounter but, try as he might, he was never able to find her again in his dreams - until now.

"Harry defeated the Dark Lord," he told her quietly, "Thanks to your warning we were able to organise the troops before the battle. You saved his life."

Lily shook her head somberly, "No, Sev, _you_ saved his life. And now I need you to save his mind."

Severus raised an eyebrow in surprise, "You know of his condition then?" His mind filled with images of the empty boy seated in front of the window.

"I know more than I can possibly explain to you, but I'm going to try. Walk with me." Reaching down, she encircled his elegant hand with her small fingers and together they proceeded into the whiteness, where she began to explain.

"There is more to existence than life and death, Severus. There are places, states, in between the two planes of existence that can hold a person's soul, or pieces of it."

"Limbo?" Severus asked, evenly, "Purgatory, perhaps?"

She nodded, slowly. Their soft footsteps reverberated into the void as she continued, "When you die, your spirit as a whole separates from your body and usually passes through the between states, into death. Lost spirits can pass from life into this world, _between_, and become trapped here."

A flicker of alarm graced Severus' typically expressionless face, "Are you saying Harry is dead?"

" No, no," Lily shook her head fervently, "If he were dead, his entire spirit would have left his body, which is hasn't. Severus, Harry's stuck here. Apparently, killing Voldemort fractured his spirit. Only a small piece of it is left in his body, the rest of it is trapped; some of it here, some of it beyond. I can _feel_ him, I can track down pieces of him but I can't guide them back to his body. I need you to do it for me." A pleading expression crossed her lovely, freckled face.

A million questions ran through Severus' mind, the whole concept was so utterly beyond anything he had ever tried to comprehend. He understood magic, but this, _this_, was so much more than that.

"Lily, I am unsure as to how any of this relates to dreaming, precisely. How am I seeing you here?"

White teeth appeared as she chewed her bottom lip, searching for the right words to explain the situation. "When people dream, a piece of their spirit leaves their body and wanders _between_. The piece of spirit that leaves can only survive for so long on its own, so over the course of the night it is drawn back to itself. Every morning when you open your eyes, your soul is once again whole."

She looked up at Severus calmly, watching his face to make sure he had full comprehension. His brow was furrowed, but he seemed to be understanding as he encouraged her to continue with a slight nod and a squeeze of her hand.

"Harry's soul can't find its way back to itself," her voice barely registered above a whisper, "If the pieces can't be drawn back into his body, they'll pass on, leaving him in his current state."

"And you aren't able to bring the pieces together."

"No, only someone from the realm of the living can bring the fragments back. I can't get any closer to your realm than I am right now."

The whiteness that surrounded them seemed unending, and Severus had a difficult time picturing anything beyond it. "What's on the other side?" he asked, quietly.

Even in her darkest of moments, Lily Evans managed a small laugh and her eyes sparkled with mischief, "You're not allowed to know that yet, Sev. Not for a long time, I hope. I'll get in trouble for telling you; we dead guard our secrets carefully, you know." She scrunched her nose at him in a teasing gesture.

Severus inhaled sharply as a biting pain ripped through his chest. In their moments together, he had allowed himself to forget that Lily was, in fact, no longer alive. He cleared his throat and blinked back the pesky tear that threatened to betray his tightly guarded emotions.

"Should you not be there? Have you not passed on?" he queried.

"I made it through, but I've been fighting for years to make it back to this in between place. I knew if I could somehow get here, I could reach people who were still alive. People like you. Or Harry"

"Harry?"

She frowned and shook her head "I could never reach him the way I reached you. He's my son, but he never knew me. I couldn't reach him through his dreams the same way, no matter how hard I tried. Believe me. I tried." Abruptly, she stopped walking and turned away from him to face the whiteness. Her voice took a low timbre, and she spoke barely above a whisper. "Oh, Sev, if you knew how hard I tried..."

Severus stood quietly for a moment as his brain tried desperately to organize his thoughts into a coherent steam. His eyes fluttered shut momentarily and his tongue darted out to moisten his thin lips before he whispered his reply: "Tell me what to do."

Jagged pain shot down his abused spine as he awoke with a start in the stiff-backed chair that occupied Harry's room. Groaning, he unfolded himself from the seat, noting with disgust that a thin sheen of his sweat coated the artificial leather upholstery. With a sickening crack, Severus jerked his head left and right, desperate to relieve the crick that had formed there after what he could only assume were many hours of terrible posture.

Casting a glance to the sleeping boy in the bed, Severus gathered himself and disapparated from the room with a loud _crack_.

In his office, the headmaster regarded Severus calmly as he recounted his tale. The potions professor was keenly aware of how absurd the entire thing sounded, and on more than one occasion he cringed as the words passed his lips.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers on his desk, his eyes alight with wonder, "But, Severus, how do you find the soul fragments?"

Severus shrugged, "The pieces are attached to his memories and dreams, which are trapped somewhere _between. _According to Lily, if I can find them, I can bring them back with me when I wake." It was a daunting prospect, to say the least. There was no saying how many pieces the boy's soul had splintered into, or how long it would take to successfully recover them.

"_Follow my voice when you sleep, Sev. I'll try my best to guide you". _

His heart had sunk when he'd realized that she wouldn't be accompanying him on his journey to help save her son. The sharp pain of longing for her company had become a faint ache over the past sixteen years, but being in her presence again, however briefly, had brought the pain back to the surface as if time had not dulled it at all.

Tears streamed down Lily Evans grubby face as she stared at her wounded knee. Blood seeped through her abraded skin and mixed in with the grit that was ground into her tender flesh. Whimpering, she tried to stand up, but her injured knee wouldn't hold her weight.

"Unnnhhhh" she cried out, as she collapsed onto the sandy surface of the playground once again.

"Lily!" cried a young, dark haired boy as he sprinted across the old playground. "Lily, are you okay?" The dishevelled boy squatted in front of the young girl and stared worriedly at her knee.

The girl smiled in relief at the sight of her friend, "I hurt myself, Sev" she said, pointing a slightly chubby finger at the angry red wound that was revealed by the tear in her favourite yellow overalls.

Severus frowned, his young brow knitting together in concentration as he examined her knee. Peering up at her from beneath his long, shaggy black hair, he asked "Can you bend it?" He placed one delicate hand on her calf, and one just above her knee, and gently tried to flex the joint.

He smiled reassuringly at Lily as he put her leg back down. "I think its okay, Lil," he said, nodding to himself, "Come over to the fountain and we'll wash it off, yeah?"

Reaching down, the boy in faded black clothes carefully helped up his beautiful red-headed friend and helped her hobble to the fountain in the middle of the park, where he gently washed her knee, unaware that anyone was watching.

"You were always so kind to me, Sev." Lily, the adult (of the ghost thereof) placed a hand on her life-time friend's shoulder as the two of them watched their childhood selves.

Severus shivered slightly under her touch, his eyes never leaving the two children in front of him, "You loved those overalls," he mused quietly.

Lily laughed "Remember when you tried to patch them for me?"

Severus winced as an image of the poorly mended pants flashed in his vision, one yellow leg patched horrifically with a handkerchief and clumsy black stitches. "I never have been particularly adept at the domestic arts," he admitted dourly. His expression softened as Lily dropped a soft kiss on his sunken cheek.

" 'A' for effort, my dear." She teased, affectionately.

The two of them turned back to the scene in front of them, where young Severus was tenderly patting young Lily's freshly washed knee with a pocket square. "There," he pronounced proudly, admiring his handiwork, "All clean now." Folding the square so that the soiled areas were out of sight, he reached up and wiped the tear-streaked dirt from Lily's shining face.

The girl beamed at him appreciatively as his cloth gently stroked her cheek. Hesitantly, her small hand reached up to his wrist, stilling his gentle cleansing. Severus froze momentarily, his dark eyes locked on her green ones. The little girl leaned forward and planted an awkward, childish kiss on her best friend's lips, causing their noses to bang together clumsily.

Young Severus looked shocked momentarily, his eyes wide as his lips received their very first kiss. Even from a distance, one would have been able to see the pulse leaping in his throat.

Smiling, young Lily drew away and looked at him, sheepishly, "I love you, Sev," she told him, smiling, "And some day I'm going to marry you!"

The boy shook his head as if to clear it of a thousand different thoughts. He smiled as a blush rose up his narrow face, "Together forever," he promised.

"No quite." The bitter words escaped the grown Severus' mouth, unbidden. His heart lurched in his chest painfully as the memory before him swirled into a fog and faded into oblivion. Staring at the whiteness before him, he took a deep, shuddering breath. "I thought I was supposed to find young Mr. Potter," he said, quietly, not daring to look at the woman beside him.

He felt a small, feminine hand grasp his tightly. "You'll find his dreams and memories, Sev, but you're also going to end up wading through your own. And mine." She looked up at him, his face in profile as he faced the nothingness that had, moments before, shown him a glimpse of his childhood.

"I suppose these memories will not be of my choosing?" he asked, closing his eyes slowly.

"No, Sev, they won't. I'm sorry." Her fingers tightened around his hand.

He nodded slowly and opened his onyx eyes, turning to look at Lily for the first time in this visit. "Then I pray that this mission is over quickly."


	3. Walking Through Blue Flames

Amber liquid sloshed over the edge of the glass as Severus clumsily knocked the side table with his hip. He was exhausted; his eyes felt like they were full of grit and his neck seemed to be barely capable of holding up his heavy head. Sighing, he took another sip of his whiskey and turned to face the other man in the room. "How is it that you are always in danger, and it is I that is stuck rescuing you?"

Harry continued to stare out his window. He hadn't so much as flinched as Severus' deep voice broke the silence of his quiet hospital room.

Severus sighed to himself as he observed the young man whose face was lit with moonlight. It was near midnight, and apparently Harry didn't sleep much these days, but Severus only supposed that he didn't need to. After all, his body didn't get much exertion and his soul was already gallivanting off in the dream realm doing Merlin knows what.

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, questioning the sanity of attempting to hold a conversation with the shell of a man who sat before him. He supposed the few glasses of whiskey he'd just imbibed provided a somewhat reasonable excuse. Somewhat. "You're a terrible drinking partner, Potter," he murmured before quickly downing the last finger of malt and walking over to the young man's side.

Peering out the window, Severus observed the quiet streetscape before him. The warm glow of the streetlights was reflected back off the wet pavement; Severus hadn't even been aware that it had been raining. Refocusing his eyes from the scene outside, he cast a glance at Harry's reflection in the window. The boy's bright green eyes stared dully from behind his spectacles and his gaze never seemed to fix on any one point. "What do you see, Potter?" Severus whispered, his words fogging the window.

The boy said nothing as Severus patted him on the back and settled down into his regular chair.

_thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump..._

"_Blast" _Severus muttered as he took in his surroundings. He was on the pebbled beach again, which only meant that he was most likely going to have to drown himself. Travelling into death was such an infuriatingly uncomfortable thing to do; this journey had barely begun and he was already finding it loathsome. Kicking a pile of pebbles in exasperation, he set off down the beach, waiting for the telltale call of his personal, red-haired siren to beckon him into the sea.

The sound did not come, but there seemed to be another one in its place.

_Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump..._

Beneath the sound of crashing waves it came to him, a sound familiar and yet somehow incredibly hard to place. Arching his eyebrow at no-one in particular, Severus paused his march down the shore to focus on the sound.

_Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump..._

Were those, _heartbeats?_

Perplexed, he spun in place, looking for the source of the pulse. The coast was as it always was in his dreams, grey skied and noisy. The waves crashed mercilessly, the gulls squawked noisily overhead.

_Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump..._

It was coming from his right, from a pile of large stones that jutted from the shoreline. Gathering his robes so as not to trip, he jogged over to the rocky mass and circled around it, gasping at what he saw. On the far side of the lithic mass was something he never thought he'd see on the beach.

A fireplace.

Severus froze momentarily as he stared into the flames. They were blue; the rich, deep sapphire of twilight, and they pulsed in a familiar rhythm. _Thump-thump_... the sound of atrioventricular valves and semilunar valves closing. It called to Severus, and without a second thought, he stepped into the hearth.

"Padma and Parvati are okay, but I don't see why we need to take them." Harry fumbled with the sleeve of his shirt, having already shucked his cumbersome school robes into the corner. His glasses slid down as the bridge of his nose, "I mean, I don't know why we _have_ to bring a girl to the ball. Why can't we just go stag – or together?" he said the last part in almost a whisper, his heart quickening in his chest.

Ron grimaced, "Blimey, mate, why on earth would you want to go _together_?" The two best mates were seated on Harry's bed in the Griffyndor dorms where for the past 20 minutes, the redhead had been in the process of trying to transfigure his second hand (and extremely outdated) formal robes into something a little more posh. Poking at the lace ruffle on the hideous garment before him, Ron sighed, "Harry, I'm going to have a hard enough time not looking like a giant pouf at this ball, I don't need you around queering it up."

A fierce blush crept up Harry's neck and into his cheeks and he kept his head lowered so his best friend wouldn't see it. "I never said I was queer." He spat, defensively.

Ron snapped his head up in astonishment, "Oh, I never said you were, mate! I just thought that with all _this," _he tugged at the frilly lace in disgust, "I'm going to look like I walked out of some kind of retro gay-bar. Could you imagine what Malfoy would say if he saw you with me, in _this_ monstrosity_?"_

Harry shuddered at the thought. Malfoy had always been an insufferable prat, even more so lately since Harry had somehow ended up a competitor in the Tri-Wizard tournament, despite being underage. As a tournament champion, Harry would be under extra scrutiny at the Yule Ball Hogwarts was hosting that year. The bespectacled wizard sighed, "I just don't think it's fair we _have _to take a girl to the ball, that's all," he muttered.

A quick grin nearly split Ron's face as he laughed at Harry, "Mate, why wouldn't you want to take one? Get to see her all gussied up and smelling nice. After some nice slow dancing, who knows? Maybe you'll get yourself a good snog – or more!"

Harry watched as a wistful look passed over Ron's face as if he were trying to imagine any girl wanting to snog _him_ in his revolting vestments. Who knows? Maybe a girl wouldn't have wanted to snog Weasley... but perhaps a certain Boy Who Lived would have.

Severus gasped as he fell back into white nothingness. He had witnessed the entire exchange between the two Gryffindor boys as if he were Harry; he had felt the sinking feeling in the boy's stomach, and his face had burned when he felt Harry blush. Being torn from the experience was like being ripped from his own body; an experience that left him gasping in pain and reeling with nausea. He fell to his knees and tried not to retch all over the pristine white floor of _between_.

"Disoriented?" Lily had appeared out of nowhere, her soft voice tinged with concern.

"I feel like I've just been vivisected," Snape coughed, standing quickly and attempting to regain his composure.

Lily frowned, "I'm sorry, Sev, I didn't know this whole process was going to be so physically trying on you." She bit her lip in concern, "But at least you found my Floo to _between_! No more drowning to get here, right?"

Severus groaned, "Oh, goody! Now we can save all the severe physical discomfort for the chasing of your son's vagabond soul pieces." He righted himself and fixed his friend with a steely glare, "I was just in something, a dream or a memory..."

"A memory," she confirmed, nodding.

A smooth black eyebrow arched inquisitively. Severus hadn't realized that the Potter boy had such interesting proclivities. Hadn't he ended up dating the Weasley _girl?_ What was meaning of the awkward exchange with her brother? He pursed his lips and said nothing, assuming that the boy's sexual appetites need not be discussed with his mother, of all people. Severus absently brushed off the sleeve of his robe, "So, how exactly do I know when I've found a piece of his soul? I didn't feel anything exceptional; no transfer of magic or energy or the like."

"No, there wasn't a fragment in that particular memory. This isn't an exact science, apparently. It seems you'll just have to wander through until you find what you're looking for." Lily smiled and touched his smooth cheek, reverently, "You'll know when you find it."

Severus swore inwardly, cursing the woman and her persuasive green eyes that were now bearing into his soul. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he turned on his heel and departed into the blue flames that had mysteriously materialized behind him.

A huge chunk of pumpkin cheesecake materialized before him, causing him to scowl in distaste. Severus did not understand why wizards were so enamoured with pumpkins; the large orange gourds tasted like nothing on their own. Truly, when people said they like pumpkin juice, pumpkin pie or pumpkin whatever, what they truly meant to say is that they liked the taste of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Severus despised nutmeg.

His long white fingers pushed the plate aside, as if the six extra inches he had put between himself and the offending pudding would somehow manage to keep the smell from invading his nostrils.

"Why, Snape, don't you like cheesecake?" The smooth, sinewy voice of Lucius Malfoy washed over Severus like heavy cream. He looked up at the platinum haired prefect and swallowed thickly.

"Cheesecake is fine, I suppose, I just don't particularly like pumpkin." As if to further illustrate his point, he nudged the plate an inch further away.

The prefect smiled his utterly disarming smile and sat down on the bench beside Snape, the first year student. Lucius' blonde hair fell forward over his black and green robes as he leaned in to speak in Snape's ear. "You really should eat it, you know," he murmured, his silken voice nearly a purr, "You, Severus, are far too thin. You need to make an effort to put a little meat on your bones."

For some reason the young Severus couldn't quite identify, the way Lucius had said the words 'meat' and 'bones' had nearly turned his knees into jelly; he was quite grateful he was sitting down. Clearing his throat self consciously, he said "I'm not skinny."

A low chuckle escaped Lucius' throat as one of his large, smooth hands traced Severus' spine slowly. "I can feel every knot of your spine, Master Snape. I do believe it is my responsibility as your prefect to make sure you get some- nourishment – in you." His slender fingers traced languidly up Severus' spine, causing the younger boy to shudder.

Severus looked up quickly, his black eyes scanning the Great Hall nervously. Although he wasn't sure exactly what was happening right now, he could think of a few Gryffindor students that he would prefer didn't see.

"Oi! Snivellus has a boyfriend!"

Too late.

Severus looked up to see the sneering faces of James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. He kept his face expressionless, an art he had mastered in years of dealing with his father, and looked at the trio impassively. He chose not to justify Potter's barb with a response.

Black laughed with derision, "What makes you think he's got a boyfriend, James? I'd say this looks like a right pretty girl to me." Sirius laughed and tossed an imaginary head of hair "Oh, Snivellus, don't you look dashing today!" he exclaimed in an irritating falsetto that couldn't have been further from the cool, deep liquidity of Lucius' voice

Snape felt Lucius' hand still on his back as the platinum-haired prefect stared at the three boys coolly, "It's quite alright that you'd be confused, I know Gryffindors are not well reputed for their prowess with women." He smirked as he stood up to his full height. Though the three boys were tall for their age, Lucius was a few years older and towered over them imposingly. "Now might I politely suggest that you vacate the area, or do you need my Slytherin brethren to escort you out?" With that, the dozen students within earshot all rose from their seats and turned to the three miscreants.

Lupin had sized up the competition and promptly grabbed his two friends by the sleeves, "Come on, guys, let's leave Snivellus to his little tea party." Casting the young, dark-haired wizard withering glances, the three retreated back to their own house table.

Snape glanced up at his saviour and hazarded a small smile, which Lucius returned easily.

"Don't worry, my dear," the blonde cooed quietly, "You can make it up to me later."


	4. The Truth in the Kiss

_A/N: Hello, everyone! I was re-reading my story and realized there were some formatting and punctuation errors in the previous chapters. If you read them a while ago, I apologize, but they should be fixed now._

_This chapter will be fairly heavy on heterosexual smut, so please note that it is NOT appropriate for young readers. This IS a slash story, but the het needs to be here to set a baseline and lay some back story. I hope you enjoy, and don't worry, the good stuff is coming soon._

_~SA_

The water was cold. It usually was, but cold showers were something the wretchedly poor were used to, and the Snape family was utterly impoverished. Severus dragged what was left of the bar of soap –a sliver, really – over his pale white form, taking extra care with his underarms and groin. He used the last remnants of the bar to wash his hair, something he normally avoided, as bar soap dried his scalp and his family rarely spent their hard-earned galleons on proper shampoo.

Today would be a special day.

Well, he_ thought_ it would be a special day, anyway. Lily certainly seemed to be hinting at it, and Severus was usually quick to pick up subtle nuances in his friend's actions. For days, weeks even, Lily had been getting closer to him. Severus often found her small, delicate fingers running through his hair as they lay in the grass, or her soft thigh pressed against his as they sat under aged oaks. He felt her heart beat rapidly when she pulled him into a hug, and he couldn't but notice how tightly she held him, and how firmly her small breasts pressed up against his ribs.

Lily wanted him.

Severus allowed himself a small smile as his wet hair hung in his face like silky curtains. He never thought that anyone could ever want him, especially not someone as beautiful as Lily. What could she possibly see in him? He was tall, but lanky, and what lean musculature he seemed paltry compared to those of some of the other boys in 6th year. His skin was ghastly pale, making his dark eyes stand out like black marbles in his skull. His nose, which took up much of his face, was crooked and slightly hooked.

Yet somehow, despite all his defects, Lily Evans wanted him.

His hesitant smile broadened as he turned the creaking faucet to staunch the flow of frigid water and step out of the cramped shower. Towelling off quickly, he hastily brushed his jet hair and tied it back into a low ponytail. He scrambled for his toothbrush, scrubbing aggressively at the slightly yellowed teeth that hid behind thin lips. All in all, he didn't look too bad – for Severus Snape, anyway.

He didn't even remember dressing or how he got to their fort, but soon enough, he stood in his best denims and least-worn jumper before their dilapidated tree house. Lily was already there.

She stood before him, a radiant beauty as per usual with her soft auburn hair draping over her shoulders. Her simple dress was yellow – her favourite colour – and her green eyes sparkled when she saw him approaching. She looked delicious, like some kind of citrus sorbet, all orange and yellow and green. It warmed his heart.

He helped her into the tree house where they sat for a while, legs pressed together as they watched the sun's slow descent to the horizon. Severus froze momentarily as he felt slender fingers trace up his thigh, resting inches below his most sensitive flesh. Tentatively, her wrapped a long arm around Lily's slender shoulders and pulled her towards him.

They kissed.

It wasn't as if they hadn't kissed before, but all their previous embraces had been fleeting; the soft, quick kiss that friends shared when they said goodbye. This was different. This was... strange.

Severus breathed in sharply when her delicate tongue probed at his tight lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. He obliged, cautiously, returning her ministrations with inexpert strokes of his own tongue.

It all felt very odd.

He supposed it should. After all, they were both virgins, and what would virgins know about how this was meant to feel?

Returning her kiss, Severus reached a slender hand up to his friend's chest and gently squeezed her breast, as he'd seen so many couples do in the dark corners of Hogwarts. Through the thin fabric of her dress, he felt her nipple become stiff under his touch and she groaned appreciatively, arching her back.

Lily's breath came quickly, her moans soft but insistent. She pulled him down onto the rough hewn planks of the tree house floor so that his body covered hers. "Severus," she moaned between inexpert kisses. Her hand clasped his fingers and guided them to the hem of her skirt, placing them on her upper thigh.

Severus was at a loss. Well, not entirely; he knew what she wanted, but he suddenly realized that he hadn't the foggiest idea what to do. He kissed her firmly, hoping his lips would distract from the fumbling fingers that tugged uncertainly at the edge of her knickers. She was warm, very warm, and wet, too. Sliding a long finger under the elastic legband, he gently probed into her tight wetness.

She cried out s eagerly into his mouth, pressing her hips up against him.

Taking her reaction as an indication that he was somehow succeeding in giving her pleasure, he continued to stroke her cleft, running silky fingers through her hot folds. His fingers found a firm bud nestled in her skin, and he rubbed it tenderly, revelling in the reaction of the woman he loved. "Is this okay?" he asked, unsure of himself.

"Oh gods, Severus, please-" Lily bucked her hips urgently, impaling herself on his smooth digits. Severus could hear her breath become ragged, and her moans nearly frantic as her muscles pulsed and contracted around his fingers. She reached down with both hands to rid herself of the damp knickers, allowing herself more room to move. Groaning, she spread her legs, her green eyes begging him for some kind of release.

Lily came violently, a scream tearing itself from her delicate throat and her body pulsed under him.

Severus smiled at the flushed face beneath him, feeling a mixture of pride at his accomplishment and happiness that he had given his friend pleasure. He peered down into her green eyes which were glazed with bliss.

"Thank you," she murmured, smiling up at him languidly.

"Don't ask for a repeat performance, I'm honestly not sure what I did," he admitted with a nervous chuckle. His laugh was cut short as her soft lips sought his again, and she gently rolled him onto his back. Breath hitched in his throat as her hands reached for the zip on the front of his denims and gently pulled it down...

Revealing his soft prick.

He hadn't even noticed that his body wasn't responding the way it was supposed to. He was with the woman he loved more than anything, shouldn't he be hard? Shouldn't he be ready to burst? He stared at his traitorous cock, horrified.

Lily knew better than to try and soothe him - that whatever she said to him in this very moment would merely come across as patronizing. Instead, she covered his mouth (which was still agape) with her own, and kissed him mercilessly. Her lips and tongue begged him to forget his embarrassment; her soft hand gripped him firmly and tried to coax him into arousal.

Severus shuddered. It was the first time the hand that held him, that stroked him, was not his own. He felt himself thicken and grow hard in her palm.

Her lips pressed against his slender neck, kissing her feverishly. She peeled off his worn jumper and cast it aside as he worked on freeing her from her own clothing.

The dark haired teenager groaned as his fiery counterpart slowly traced her tongue down his thin, hairless chest and down his quivering belly until it came to rest on his (finally) co-operative erection. Her mouth was hot, wet and delicious; any clumsiness of her tongue and lips could be forgiven as she tried to please him.

He moaned in longing as the warm mouth left him, and Lily slid a leg across him and positioned herself so she was hovering over his thighs. Her green eyes searched his face as the question left her swollen lips, "Do you want me?"

"I love you, Lily," was his only reply.

She hesitated, as if that was not the answer she had sought, before slowly lowering herself onto him. Crying out as her broke through her barrier, she clenched her thighs around his slender hips and trembled slightly.

He groaned, not entirely sure if it was from the pleasure of her tight body or from concern for her pain. The question escaped him as she began to rock on top of him, wiping his mind clean of any thoughts or confusion. Slowly, her movements became more confident, more frenzied. He grasped her hips tightly so he could push into her warmth and give her the friction she seemed to crave. A tortured cry escaped her lips as she climaxed for the second time, her muscles clenching him tightly and coaxing him into his own release.

They lay there together, sated and exhausted on the floor of the old tree house, best friends in a lover's embrace. From where he lay spooned around her, Severus could bury his face in her lavender scented hair.

She sighed, softly, and nestled back into his lean body, "I'm glad it was you," she whispered.

"Mutual," he agreed, solemnly.

Somewhere in the back of their minds, they both knew he was lying.

"You can't expect me to believe that the memory of our...tryst... is somehow going to help me find your son," he spat, angrily. Severus was shaken at the vision he had just seen and, as he was prone to do when cornered or hurt, he lashed out.

Lily regarded him calmly, "I can't control what you see, Sev. Our lives are irrevocably entwined, yours and mine. You and I and Harry, we're all woven together. I can't separate the bad memories from the good." A small bead of moisture gathered at the corner of her eye and she looked away hastily.

_Fuck. _Severus deflated, "It isn't a bad memory, Lily." He tried to make keep his voice soft and reassuring.

Her smile took on a bitter edge as she stared into his black eyes with subdued ferocity, "No, Sev, it isn't. We loved each other, and that's what people who love each other do, right? They make love, they have sex. They give each other pleasure." She took a step towards him slowly, _menacingly_ almost.

Severus resisted the urge to step back, "If you ever doubted my feelings for you-" he began.

Lily shook her head, "I know you loved me; as best as you could, anyway. You were confused, Sev." Her voice cracked.

The whiteness of between seemed to spin around him as his stomach dropped and his heart beat a frantic staccato. _She knew_. He licked his lips nervously, "You are mistaken."

Auburn hair flew as her head whipped up, "Don't you _dare_ lie to me, Severus Snape. You know exactly what I mean!" Green eyes pierced his soul, as if willing the truth from him.

"No." His voice was firm, only the balled fists at his sides betraying him.

Behind him, the blue flames shot up out of the white floor as if prompted by her fury. She flicked a hand towards it before turning on her heel and walking into the whiteness. "Suit yourself, Sev," she called over her shoulder, angrily, "But these memories aren't going to lie for you."

A blue and grey scarf tickled his nose. It was cold, but the body pressed against him was warm. Opening his eyes, Severus peered over the shoulder of the person hugging him and tried to get his bearings.

Derelict wooden arches indicated that he was on the covered bridge between the clock tower and the stone circle at Hogwarts. Peering out of the corner of his eye, he tried to identify the person – the woman – who was currently in his hesitant embrace.

_Cho Chang?_

Momentarily startled, Severus realized he must be in someone else's memory. A quick look down at his strong, tanned hands indicated that he must be reliving a moment of Harry's life, again.

_How did he recognize Harry's hands so quickly? _Dismissing the thought, Severus waited for the scene to play out.

Being inside Harry's mind was a truly disturbing experience. Once, Snape would have assumed it held little more than cobwebs and random quidditch statistics, but now he knew that to be untrue. The mind of Harry Potter was a truly befuddling place.

Right now, Severus could feel the young man's confusion as his arms wrapped around the beautiful girl in front of him. He recognized her smooth skin, shiny hair and delicate features as beautiful, but beyond that he didn't feel an attraction. The hug was nice; a comforting warmth on the frigid winter day, but the body was too soft – too curvy. Harry craved something else, something firmer and less yielding.

"This is nice." Chang's muffled words were nearly lost in the folds of Harry's robes. Severus felt Harry's head nod up and down as he made a noise of assent. The girl pulled away from him slightly, lifting her wind-reddened face to peer up at Harry's. He sensed Harry's panic as the girl's tongue quickly swiped across her lips and her eyes took on a dreamy stare.

"Harry –" she whispered, lifting her chin.

Harry's lips met Cho's awkwardly. Severus could feel the girl's need in her frantic kiss, her hands rubbing his chest firmly, trying desperately to evict a reaction from the Potter. She pressed needily against his closed mouth where his lips remained closed against her prying tongue.

A feeling of unease washed through Harry, but Severus couldn't quite describe the exact emotion. It was hardly revulsion, but more like distaste coupled with confusion and something else – fear, perhaps. It was a similar feeling to that which Severus had experienced when he had made love to Lily. The wrongness of it was overwhelming.

"We should get back." Severus heard Harry say, quietly.

Chang looked confused, then slightly hurt. "Don't you like me?" she asked, plaintively, "Is there someone else?"

An image ripped through Harry's mind, so brief, Severus barely caught it. He saw a glimpse of a jawline flecked with dark stubble, followed by a vision of hands. Men's hands with long fingers and large knuckles, rubbing the masculine jaw, as if the man in question were concentrating.

_thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump..._

In the background, he could hear the strange beating again - heartbeats.

Severus felt Harry's lips curve into an apologetic smile as he told the girl, "Yes."

A rush of electricity shot through his body before the world around him melted.

He was back in his chair in the hospital room, disoriented and strangely tingly. Dumbledore was there, observing him with a look of apprehension tinged with the slightest bit of amusement.

"Severus, my boy, you appear to be glowing."

Snape cast a glance at Harry's window, and started with shock. He _was_ glowing. Snape`s reflection stared back at him, looking almost normal except for a bizarre blue aura that hung off him, twinkling subtly.

"That dream ended – strangely." Severus murmured, still staring at the reflected image. "I felt a strange shock and was jerked out of it. It normally doesn't happen that way." He cast a glance down at his hands, turning them over to observe the unearthly blue glow that radiated from his finger tips. Looking up at Dumbledore quizzically, he asked "Is this a piece of the soul?"

The old wizard shook his head, slightly, "I have no idea, dear Severus, I must say that this entire situation is unique to me, as well."

Both men peered over at Harry, who had turned and was staring at Severus vacantly. It was the first time either man had seen the boy look away from the window on his own accord. Slowly, Harry's fingers twitched and his arm raised slightly, as if reaching for his potions professor.

Snape took this as an invitation and glided over to the boy, perching beside him on his stiff hospital bed. "How do I give this back to you?" he murmured. He took the outstretched hand, tentatively, and waited for the piece of soul to transfer back into its rightful owner. His smooth white fingers wrapped around Harry's warm hand and Severus allowed their fingers to intertwine slightly.

Nothing happened.

Snape frowned in confusion at the mess of digits in front of him, "Albus, what do I do?"

"I only know one way that souls are transferred from one body to another," the old man said slowly, pursing his lips, "and that is something that I've only seen in Azkaban."

"The Dementor's Kiss?" hissed Severus, in surprise.

Albus nodded solemnly, "Have you ever seen any other way?"

Severus reluctantly admitted to himself that he hadn't. "You're telling me, I need to..." he trailed off, momentarily lost in thought. The Dementor's Kiss was a horrible thing to observe; lifeless creatures pouncing on their victim and taking someone's soul straight out of their mouth. The vision was enough to give a grown man nightmares for months. Severus knew that for a fact, as he'd suffered with those dreams before.

He felt Albus' hand rest reassuringly on his shoulder, "I'm sure returning someone's soul to its rightful owner is a much more pleasant experience." the old man mused

"'Pleasant' is not a thought I associate with kissing Harry Potter," Severus snarled.

'_Liar_' he thought to himself. The young man in front of him was beautiful, even in his current state. Severus grit his teeth as he tried to ignore the haphazard way Harry's black locks hung in his eyes endearingly.

Albus laughed heartily, "Severus, be that as it may, you can't walk around carrying the boy's soul forever."

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Severus slowly leaned forward. He had assumed, as with Dementors, he would not actually need to make contact with the boy to make the exchange, but as he inched closer he realized that this may not be the case. Only when his own thin lips brushed against Harry's did Severus feel it happen. A charge ran through his body, and he felt a tingle and the energy flowed through his mouth. Opening his eyes, Severus watched in awe as blue sparkling light surrounded them, crashing towards Harry like waves.

Slowly, the light ebbed and waned. Reluctantly, Severus broke the chaste kiss and leaned back to observe the man in front of him. Harry's eyes were closed, his face slightly flushed.

Severus gasped quietly as he felt the boys fingers tighten around his.


	5. The Mind of a Seventeen Year Old Boy

"I feel like a pervert." Severus sighed deeply and pressed his fingers against his closed eyelids, causing strange patterns to appear in his vision when he opened his eyes again. "Honestly, Albus, the mind of a seventeen year old boy is ripe with all kinds of...filth."

The headmaster chuckled softly from where he was seated in his office, across the desk from Severus. "Surely the boy has more on his mind than sex?" he asked, popping a chocolate frog into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

"Sex, quidditch, food, sex, sex, quidditch and the occasional dream about slaying dragons. Often, some of these things are combined. It's rather disturbing, actually." A week had passed since Snape had been able to find another piece of Harry's soul in _between_. He was exhausted, as the sleep state he entered every night was not restful in the slightest.

"Does the book need some editing? Or have you forgotten that you are to write on parchment, and not in your text?"

His own voice filled his ears as Severus once again fought the disorientation of finding himself in a dream. He appeared to be an observer this time, a ghostly presence standing in the corner of the room and simply taking in the memory.

Potter's memory.

The boy in question was sitting at his usual desk, doodling dreamily in the margins of his potions text. The Professor Snape in the memory had silently glided across the classroom, to where he now stood in front of Potter, startling him into slamming his book shut in alarm.

Observer Severus smirked to himself; he was always good at sneaking up on the brat.

Potter's face burned red with embarrassment, and Severus watched bemusedly as his memory-self sneered down at the youth.

"Well, Potter?" the professor asked, coolly.

"I, uhh-" Harry swallowed hard in an attempt to regain composure, "I was just making a note to cut the Gillyweed length-wise, not cross-wise."

The Professor raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Gillyweed is always cut length-wise, Potter. There is nothing different about its preparation in this potion than in any other; why would you need to make note of that?"

Potter grinned ruefully, "Because I'm rubbish at Potions, Sir."

Professor Snape paused for a moment before conceding the point, "Indeed. As you purchased the textbook and it is technically your property, I cannot punish you for vandalism-"

Potter released the breath neither of them had been aware he'd been holding.

"-_however_," the professor continued, "Perhaps if you feel your skills are not up to par, you should be seeking extra help. Detention for one week, Potter." In a swirl of billowing robes, the professor stalked back up to front of the classroom and settled the now-unruly students with a menacing sneer. Thirty pairs of eyes immediately shot down to their texts as thirty mouths snapped shut.

Observer-Severus allowed himself to swell with pride as he watched the memory of himself in such utter control of his dunderheaded charges. Scanning the room, he watched as every student but one began preparing their ingredients.

Potter's gaze was not on his cauldron, but back on the margin of his text that he had cautiously opened a moment before. His hands dipped back into a pot of ink and he laid the tip of his quill to the page, his hand moving in quick, sketching strokes that did not appear to have the fluidity of writing.

Curious, Observer-Severus crossed the room and stood, invisibly, over the boy's shoulder to examine his work.

He gasped as he examined the sketch, recoiling in something that may have been horror, or may have simply been surprise.

There, sketched on the margin of the page, was the distinctive hooked nose and long, black hair of Severus himself.

He'd seen many a hand-drawn image of himself over the years. Usually, it was a vile caricature over-emphasizing his already prominent features and depicting him in a lewd act with another staff member, himself, or even (on more than one occasion) one of Hagrid's creatures.

This image was different.

Severus peered at the drawing in something akin to wonder. The image was hardly unflattering. As he watched, Harry added detail to his careful rendering, his boyish hands moving across the page confidently. His quill scratched the parchment softly, adding depth to the silky-looking hair he'd drawn on the image. The picture of Severus seemed to stand tall, with shoulders set back. Deep black eyes peered around a nose that, although large, seemed masculine and almost handsome. Harry had captured him down to every last detail, including a darkening on his fingers from years of brewing potions.

Smiling to himself, Harry put down his quill and picked up his wand, tapping the page and muttering a quick animation spell under his breath.

The image of Severus turned towards the boy, his hand-drawn robes billowing around him gracefully as he graced his creator with a smirk that, if pressed, Severus would have had to admit looked more like a smile.

Potter blushed, and quickly scanned the room to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied that his classmates and professor were all otherwise occupied, the boy traced his fingers over the lips of the drawn character.

Severus stared.

The boy's mind truly must be beyond saving.

The disturbing scene in his potions classroom appeared to have yielded a sliver of Potter's soul, but unlike last time, Severus was not being drawn back into reality right away.

Instead, he strode through _between_ ensconced in the irritating, purple sparkling light of Potter's soul. Scowling at his iridescent hands in distaste, Severus was caught by surprise when Lily appeared from the mist and dragged him through some blue flames that appeared out of nowhere to engulf them.

Whipping out his wand (which he was startled to have, actually) Severus spun around only to realize his abductor had disappeared as quickly as she had come.

He took a moment to take in his new surroundings. The smell of earth and moist vegetation filled his prominent nose as he recognized the rows of worn workbenches and flower boxes that furnished Hogwarts' Greenhouse Number Three.

A bloated, orange harvest moon hung heavily in the night sky, casting eerie light through the glass walls and ceiling. Severus slowly walked down the aisle, checking the twisted shadows for any kind of danger, or any clue as to what event he was about to witness.

As he rounded the long workbench and proceeded to make his way down the other wise of the aisle, a gnarled branch from a Whomping Willow sapling reached out and snagged his tie. Snatching the piece of fabric hastily, Severus took an alarmed step back and found himself stumbling directly into one Lucius Malfoy.

"Fancy meeting you here, Severus," the blonde drawled, a lazy smile gracing his lips.

Severus froze, the remnants of his tie still clutched in his hand.

His tie.

His green and silver Slytherin house tie.

Looking up once again at Lucius, Severus realized that the face he was seeing was one he had not seen for quite some time. Lucius' hair was short and glossy, the front tendrils not quite long enough to be secured by the black ribbon tied at the nape of his neck. His face was chiselled and masculine, and was yet to be marred by the lines that would grace his masculine features later in life. His body, clad in form-fitting robes, was that of a man in his prime.

If Severus was correct, the Lucius Malfoy standing in front of him was approximately twenty-three years old.

Which would make Severus himself, seventeen.

"Oh god," he whispered in alarm.

Lucius smirked, rubbing his well-manicured nails on his sleeve absently, "'God' might be a bit strong, but 'Lord' is certainly acceptable if you wish to address me as such."

Severus' pulse quickened in- what? Anxiety? Fear?

Arousal?

He took a deep breath, silently begging the seventeen-year old body he was currently occupying to stop _reacting _the way a seventeen-year old body would when confronted with the object of its desire. Against his wishes, he felt his trousers tighten uncomfortably as perspiration began to gather under his arms.

It was all too familiar. This seduction had been his undoing. This one moment of weakness in the hands of a young Death Eater had ultimately set him on the path that would haunt him the rest of his life.

The soft moonlight glinted of Malfoy's platinum hair as he took a step closer to his prey.

"I'm glad you decided to join me, Severus," he purred, seductively, "I trust you've had time to consider my... proposition?"

The double entendre hung between them, going straight to Severus' cock. He moaned inwardly.

"I have," he began, his voice rough with want, "but I'm unsure as to whether I should take the Mark."

Reaching out for Severus' left arm, Lucius laughed quietly. His long, smooth fingers rolled up the sleeves of Severus' robes and began to trace a faint line up and down his thin forearm, causing the muscles to twitch reflexively.

"Such pristine skin," Lucius murmured, raising the arm to his lips, "the Mark would look so beautiful on it." He slowly kissed the tender flesh before tracing his tongue up to the crook of Severus' elbow.

Although he and Lucius had become intimately acquainted in this greenhouse many years ago, the details seemed to be wrong. The layout of the greenhouse wasn't quite right, and the moon was higher in the sky than he'd remembered. The memory seemed to be fuzzy, or incomplete. The dialogue that passed between them was similar to what Severus remembered, but also somewhat wrong.

His thoughts escaped him as Lucius' wicked tongue ceased it's torturously seductive stroking of his flesh.

"The Dark Lord is powerful, Lucius, and his power is not without its appeal, but his ideas seem a touch extreme." Severus murmured as he gently tried to pull his arm from Lucius' grasp.

The blonde grasped him by the wrist tightly and pulled him forward so that their chests were nearly touching.

"His ideas may seem radical to many, but surely not to you, Severus?" His voice was low and liquid, "No, surely not to you. _You_ are a brilliant mind, Severus; truly one of a kind. Surely _you_ recognize the Dark Lord's brilliance as well? His power?"

Lucius' fingers slowly trailed up Severus' spine as he continued in a throaty voice, "_You_ who fully understand the inferiority of Muggles. _You_ who have been harmed and ridiculed at their hands."

The only hands Severus was capable of thinking of in that moment were the ones teasing his body. Lucius's beautiful, porcelain hands that had never seen a day's labour- were now reaching down to gently squeeze the younger man's buttocks, pulling him forward so their groins made contact.

Severus moaned as their erections pressed together. His heart began to race as Lucius lowered his mouth towards his, his tongue turning to shape the words that would inevitably be Severus' undoing:

"There are a great many pleasures in His service, Severus."

This was a memory, contorted and strange as it was, but for some reason it was as vivid as the day it had happened. Severus felt himself get swept up in the moment, completely lost in the feeling of anticipation. He was standing in front of the man he had wanted for so very long, since that fateful day the head boy had seductively whispered in his ear. From that very moment, at eleven years old, Severus Snape had wanted Lucius Malfoy, and even in this retelling of the moment that want remained undiminished.

Severus' breath locked itself in his lungs as Lucius' lips pressed against his, forcefully yet with masterful control. Their tongues intertwined as Lucius's wandering hands grasped more firmly at Severus' arse.

Severus groaned with need, bucking his hips forward into the other man's prominent erection.

The smooth hands were at work again, unbuttoning Sev's trousers before lifting his thin body onto the rough-hewn workbench behind them. The feeling of the splintered wood did nothing to dampen Severus' desire. If anything, the scraping left him panting and writhing with need. His lust emboldened him, allowing him to wrap his fingers through lush blonde hair and pull and achingly beautiful mouth towards him.

Their lips and tongues intertwined as Lucius gave into the kiss, pushing Severus back on the workbench to facilitate the removal of his trousers. The clinking of his belt buckle was lost in the moans of the two young men who were clawing at each other with almost frantic need. Fingers clawed at clothing, pulling pieces from the two bodies as if the garments were on fire.

Severus groaned as Lucius' newly naked form pressed against his own, causing their cocks to rub against each other needily.

Lucius gently grabbed Severus' hair close to the root and pulled the younger man's hair back, forcing him to stare into his silvery-grey eyes.

"Tell me you want it, Severus."

Panic gripped him as he opened his mouth, but couldn't form the words he so desperately wanted to say. The tug on his hair grew more insistent and he gasped aloud.

"I asked you to tell me you want it, Severus," Lucius growled, "Tell me you want me. In you."

With a strangled sound that was almost a sob, Severus ground out the words, "I want you. Please."

A satisfied smirk crossed Lucius' lips as he relinquished his hold on his lover's hair and reached over to one of the potted plants on the table.

Severus watched in surprise as he snapped off the leaf of an aloe plant, gently squeezing the succulent so the smooth translucent gel oozed from it. Gathering it in his fingers, Lucius used his other hand to further spread Severus' thighs before smearing the warm moisture through the cleft of his buttocks. He smirked as Severus' hips jutted forward, straining for more of his touch.

"I thought you were a virgin, dear boy," he murmured in mock surprise, "Yet you're reading to fuck yourself on my fingers like a common trollop." With that, he slid a finger forward, penetrating Severus' body with one smooth stroke and causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Not a virgin," Severus panted, clenching around the finger that was stroking inside him, "But never – a man." He cried out again as a second finger breached his entrance, stretching him with deliciously agonizing firmness.

Severus' heart was pumping blood straight to his groin.

_This_ was what he had always dreamed sex would feel like. This pure, sublime rush of hormones and desire that caused his body to twitch and shudder with want. _This _was what had been missing from his time with Lily.

Lily.

All thoughts of his beautiful friend were pushed out of his head when he realized that Lucius had snapped another leaf off the aloe plant and was rubbing the gel onto his thick cock. The blunt head lined up with Severus' entrance, and with one slow, smooth motion, he was impaled on its length.

He stifled a scream as the burn overtook him.

"Shhhh," Lucius cooed in a low, silky voice, "Just relax, ease up. That's a good boy." His soft, graceful fingers traced soothing circles on Severus' belly, waiting for his abdominal muscles to cease their clenching. When he was finally relaxed, Lucius began the slow, methodical thrusting that would reduce the younger boy to an incoherent mass.

He felt his cock stiffen and swell to an almost painful degree, clear precome dripping from its tip onto his stomach.

Lucius approved, "That's a good boy," he purred, taking Seveus' length into his hand and stroking it with ruthless efficiency, "You can take it."

And take it he did. He took every rough thrust and stroke until he was thrown over the edge with a blinding orgasm, spilling his seed all over his own belly and Lucius' hand. He felt Lucius shudder and stiffen, his own climax equally as raw.

Panting, Severus groaned softly as Lucius' softening cock slid from his body, leaving him with a distinct feeling of emptiness. The table barely creaked as the other man gracefully laid down on it, joining his companion in staring at the bloated, orange harvest moon that had been taunting him all night.

The moon had not moved. It seemed to be in exactly the same place as it had been before his tryst. Furrowing his brow in concentration, Severus looked around the room for other things that seemed out of place.

The broken aloe plant wept it's slick gel onto the floor, it's torn leaves laying empty at its base. The pots of mandrakes were undisturbed. Asphodel grew in rows at the back of the greenhouse, casting soft shadows on the tool shed in the corner, where a sudden movement drew his eye.

Alarmed, he stared into the shadows just long enough to catch a glimpse of rich red hair framing the face of his horrified friend.

Lily.

His surroundings blurred as a thick white mist rolled through the greenhouse, washing away the scene but not his indiscretions.

Before him stood an older version of Lily, the look on her face not one of horror but ultimately of great sadness.

"It was your memory, wasn't it?" Severus whispered to her.

She nodded but remained silent.

"Why didn't you ever say anything? Why didn't you tell me that you knew? I spent so much time trying to hide it from you until-"

"Until when?" Lily snapped, angrily. "When were you going to tell me, Sev?"

He failed to procure an answer.

Lily huffed and rolled her eyes, "The worst part, the _very_ worst part of it all, was how betrayed you acted when I got together with James. I only ever did it because I knew I could never be with you!"

Severus' heart sank into his stomach with an almost audible 'thud'. "I didn't want to share," he admitted, softly.

"And by not sharing, you lost me entirely." The edge was gone from her voice, replaced with a deep sadness that shook Severus to his core.

"I don't want to lose you again, Lily. But I shall, shan't I? When all of this-" he gestured to the whiteness around them, "-is done."

Gently, she laid a kiss on his nose.

"I don't have those answers, Sev."

The familiar blue flames flared to life behind her, and with a last, sad parting glance, he walked into them, and back into Harry's room.


End file.
